


Mordred Drinks 13 Espressos and Fights God

by biggayrhys



Series: FGO Rarepairs [2]
Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Canon Trans Character, EVERYONE is here - Freeform, Each chapter follows a different character, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, F/M, Gen, Individual Warnings In Chapters, M/M, Mordred is He/Him, Multi, Other, gay shit, i apologize for so many tags, mordred is trans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2020-06-28 13:53:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19813660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biggayrhys/pseuds/biggayrhys
Summary: A Fate college AU centered on roommates Kintoki, Siegfried, and Mordred.





	1. Mordred vs the Education System

Mordred hated December. That ugly point during the semester where all energy was lost, the weather was gross, and winter was just settling in was the bane of his existence. He couldn’t wear his favorite shorts, the pavement was too slick to ride his motorbike most places, and the apartment was always too cold or too hot. On top of that, midterms were just around the corner and the Starbucks down the road had started refusing to sell him venti cups of pure espresso.

Dangerously caffeinated, his ass. It’s not his fault he had a full course load on top of work. Sleep was for people who didn’t have 3.8 GPAs. 

He should really pay attention in class, huh. Casting a glance back at the board, he cursed as he noticed that the professor had moved on to the next topic. Thank god Siegfried was in the same class; he was definitely paying attention and taking good notes. Mordred took another sip of his espresso and prayed to the gods of bullshittery that he’d pass the upcoming exam. Finally, Professor Velvet looked up and saw that no one was paying attention. The last day of class before Christmas break was always a hard one to sit through.  
Velvet sighed. “Alright, alright. Class dismissed.” 

Technically there was supposed to be five or ten minutes left; apparently Velvet was feeling merciful. Mordred let out a sigh of relief as a collective cheer went up from the class. It was Mordred’s final class before break, and he was glad to be done. Waiting for people to begin to filter out of the lecture hall, he made his way over to his roommate Siegfried. 

“Hello,” Siegfried greeted cordially. “I take it we’re going out to dinner tonight?”

Mordred nodded. “Not in the mood to cook, and I doubt Kintoki is either.” The two shuddered in unison thinking of Kintoki’s last disastrous attempt to make spaghetti. No one could figure out how he set a pot of water on fire. “Maybe Mama Raikou will feed us?”

Siegfried stared at him flatly. “Do you want to subject Kintoki to that? You know she’ll suffocate him with her hugs.”

Mordred shrugged. “I mean, he did make me do the dishes last week even though he was the one who ate cereal out of a kettle.”

The grey-haired young man smacked his forehead with his palm. “We had clean bowls… why is he like this.” It wasn’t a question.

Mordred shrugged again. “Too many bear hugs cut off airflow to his brain?”

Before Siegfried could respond, Professor Waver cleared his throat. “You know when I say class dismissed, the general idea is that you leave.” 

Both boys looked abashed. “Sorry, Professor,” they mumbled in unison. Mordred slung his bag onto his shoulder and Siegfried did similarly, before pushing in his chair. His unfailing politeness kind of pissed Mordred off, but the bastard had the audacity to be too nice to punch. He huffed and followed Siegfried out. 

The two (and Kintoki) shared an apartment about three blocks from their campus. It was a nice little three-bedroom flat, with a balcony, a decently-sized kitchen, and two bathrooms. The three kept it decently clean, the neighbors weren’t loud, and all in all it was good. 

Mordred had no idea how Siegfried afforded it. He himself didn’t pay rent. All his spare cash went to his tuition; Siegfried simply let him stay out of the kindness of his heart. The apartment was in a prime location and was damn well sized; Siegfried never asked him or Kintoki for rent. 

Maybe Siegfried’s parents were mobsters. Nobody would tell him what Mrs. Brynhildr did for a living, after all. 

He shook his head. Speculating about Siegfried’s possibly illegally-sourced funds wasn’t conducive to get home safely. The ashy-haired lad cast him a strange glance before refocusing on the journey. The wintry air was cold and dry, blowing harshly against the boys’ faces. Mordred’s teeth chattered. He wished he could cuddle into Siegfried’s jacket, regretting leaving home with only a thin leather jacket and ripped jeans. His slip-ons weren’t waterproof, and as he stepped into melting snowdrifts, his toes were so utterly cold they were perfectly numb. 

Siegfried sent him a long look. “Are you alright? I told you this morning to dress warmly…”

Mordred glared back. “I suffer for fashion.”

The duo finished their walk wordlessly, Mordred sighing happily as he entered their pleasantly warm flat. He toed off his wet shoes and socks, dropped his bag onto the floor, and flopped onto the couch. The living room was decorated neutrally, with soft yellow walls and bright open windows with lemon-colored curtains. The sofa was decently sized and a soft brown, flanked by two comfortable chairs the same color and a glass and wood coffee table. A burnished, brassy floor lamp stood in the corner with a small wooden bookshelf. 

A small, greyish-brown rodent curled up in one of the chairs. Its scaly, pink tail poked out of the ball of fluff. Mordred reached out to pet the little possum, affectionately called Rat Boy.

Rat Boy was missing one leg and had been picked up by Mordred a few years ago. He was a sleepy, friendly little thing, who loved to nap in people’s laps. He ate kitchen scraps and was generally content. Mordred left the little creature alone for the time being, deciding to go get changed for work in his bedroom. 

Mordred’s room had bright red walls and white furniture. Posters for punk bands were splattered all over the walls, the bed was unmade, piles of clothes covered his desk chair, shoes were scattered in front of the dresser, his laundry basket was overflowing, and the mini fridge had notes pinned all over it. 

The only semi-organized part of the room were the planters in the window. A large bay window took up most of one wall. Instead of a bench or seat, the window sill was covered in flower-pots. A gradient from red to white took place across the space. Red lilies took up the far left, then orange lilies, then yellow daisies, then white camellias. In places the flowers mingled, creating a smooth gradient all the way down. The flowers were lush and vivid, perfectly maintained. They were Mordred’s pride and joy.

Gardening was something Mordred took pure, utmost joy in. He was so used to getting into street fights and brawls, arguing with everyone, that to partake in something so purely constructive, an activity that was always about creating and making things more, was cathartic. His flowers all had meanings, and he liked to occasionally put together bouquets for people. He worked at his family friend (or perhaps uncle, it was unclear even to him) Merlin’s flower shop.

Merlin was smart enough to not let Mordred work with people, despite being a creep who feigned ignorance most of the time. Instead, he tended the flowers and arranged bouquets. He liked the work a lot. Despite the fact that his major was child psychology, Mordred didn’t have any plans for quitting the job anytime soon. The uniform apron wasn’t too bad either; a soft pink embroidered with white floral patterns. 

Mordred shrugged off his jacket and crop top, leaving his jeans. He pulled on a white button up and toed on his black boots. He put on his heavy winter coat and stuffed his work apron into his bag. Checking the time, he noted that he had to be at work in twenty minutes. It was a fifteen minute drive, so he sighed and finished getting ready by tying his hair into a messy bun. 

Turning to head back out into the cold, he called behind him to Siegfried. “I’ll be back soon! Have food ready for me after my shift!”

Hearing assent, he started ascending the stairs to the parking garage next door.


	2. Siegfried's Adventures in Cooking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title says it all. Also, Merlin is creepy.

Siegfried spread out his notes from class on his grey wood desk, working on color coding them neatly. Once appropriately sorted and labeled, they would go neatly into a binder for the class, organized impeccably by unit and topic.

Really, it was no surprise that Siegfried’s grades were so good. He worked tirelessly to make his parents proud, after all.

Finishing up highlighting and organizing his notes from the day, Siegfried returned the armful of binders to his bookshelf. There was Professor Velvet’s, there went Dr. Archaman’s lecture on medical science, Professor Andersen’s literature notes went right up on the top shelf with his other English classes… 

He sighed, glad to be done. Siegfried was utterly grateful that winter break was beginning, burnt out from classes. At least he didn’t have to work on top of his dual majors, unlike Mordred. 

Siegfried mentally thanked his mother for how generous she was with his monthy allowance on top of paying for his tuition and his rent. Of course, he didn’t spend it all each month, but it was still nice to have spending money. 

He cast a glance at the clock hanging above his neatly-made bed and noted that Kintoki should be home soon, and that it was feeding time for Fafnir and Tarrasque. 

Fafnir and Tarrasque were a pair of leopard geckos that Siegfried kept. He took immaculate care of them, and the two geckos were unusually large. Fafnir was a male and Tarrasque a female, and when the two mated he gave the hatchlings away to good homes. 

Opening a container of crickets he’d purchased for this, he used a pair of tweezers to offer Fafnir one of the insects. Feeding the two lizards was pretty satisfying, he mused. Siegfried liked to wander the apartment with the geckos in his pockets or on his shoulders. On one particularly memorable occasion, Tarrasque had hidden in his hair, causing Mordred to drop the box he’d been carrying onto his foot. 

Good times. 

Siegfried finished feeding his little dragons, as he liked to call them, and pushed the lid back onto the cage. He wondered what time Mordred would get off work; probably after closing, since it was a Friday. Standing smoothly, Siegfried paced into the kitchen where he began to pull pots and pans out of the cabinet. 

He was beginning to wonder what he should make for dinner when the door slammed open. “Yo! I’m home!”

Kintoki trudged into the apartment with tousled, wet hair, muddy boots, and a smear of oil on his cheekbone. His leather jacket was missing, and he was clad only in a muscle shirt despite the icy weather. 

“Welcome home, Kintoki. What do you want for dinner?”

The blond shrugged. “I dunno. I might go out with Shuten and Ibaraki, to be honest.”

Ah, yes. Kintoki’s girlfriend Shuten-douji, and Shuten-douji’s girlfriend Ibaraki-douji. Siegfried didn’t really understand the dynamics of the relationship, and he didn’t particularly care to. Ibaraki hated Kintoki’s guts, despite the two sharing a significant other. It was… strange, to say the least. 

“Ah, my apologies then. Do you want me to leave some leftovers out, or will you eat your fill?” Siegfried knew how much Kintoki could eat, 

Kintoki shook his head. “I think I’ll be good, but thanks. I’ll probably stay the night at Shuten’s place. It’s gonna be golden, yeah!”

Siegfried suppressed a little snort. “Have fun, then.” Kintoki would probably be walking a little funny tomorrow, then. Shuten liked to get rough, apparently. Ah, well, it wasn’t his business. 

Kintoki smiled and dropped heavily into a chair to get off his boots, unwilling to track mud deeper into the apartment. “Will do. Thanks, Boss.”

Siegfried was back to square one in terms of dinner. Mordred was such an annoyingly weird eater; sometimes he was incredibly picky and sometimes he’d inhale the most disgustingly cursed concoctions he could slap together. Siegfried offered a weak prayer that today he would be somewhere in between, and decided to make stir fry. At least that was relatively simple. 

The sounds of chopping vegetables and frying couldn’t cover Kintoki leaving around thirty minutes later. “See ya later, Boss! Be back tomorrow, probably!”

Siegfried mumbled a goodbye, preoccupied with peeling carrots and washing snap peas. Rice was boiling on the stove, and he took a moment to crack a pair of eggs to add in later. He carefully finished preparations, draining the rice before adding it, the eggs, and an assortment of vegetables into a wok. 

Unfortunately, Siegfried forgot that he wasn’t a very good cook. On burning the rice, he hoped it was fine and blindly kept going. When the eggs started to turn black, he quietly turned off the stove, opened the trash can, and emptied the whole pan into it. 

Going out it was. He dialled the local Chinese restaurant, unsurprised when the phone was picked up immediately. Siegfried placed his and Mordred’s orders, and settled in to wait. 

When the order was delivered forty-five minutes later, he put his food on the counter, dropped the paper bag with Mordred’s order into another bag for the sake of insulation, and began to bundle up. His sensible SUV (which was not a ‘mom car,’ no matter how much Mordred insisted it was) was warm, but he still had to trekk out to the garage, and he had no intentions of getting a cold. 

The drive was easy, and he parked behind Merlin’s shop. He disliked having to bring Mordred food not because of any fault of the blond’s own, but because of his boss.

Siegfried offered a wan smile to the creepy white-haired man as he entered the shop. “Sorry for intruding. I brought Mordred his dinner.” 

Merlin grinned back. “So I see! Minion, your roommate brought food!” he called into the back room. 

Said angry youth popped his head out of the door. He had a leaf in his hair and a smear of dirt on his cheek. In his small hand was a bouquet of irises and daisies. “Quit calling me your minion, you bastard!”

Focusing in on Siegfried, the angry expression melted off. “Food?!” The teenager practically had visible hearts in his eyes. 

Merlin cackled. “Go on, take your break. Be back in twenty minutes.”

Mordred grinned and lit up, pulling Siegfried into the backroom with him. He went through the room where the bouquets were arranged and into the breakroom proper. Taking a seat on one dingy couch, he held his hand out for the bag of food. “So what’d ya get?”

“Chinese,” Siegfried replied. “You got shrimp fried rice and an order of orange chicken.”

The blond nodded sagely. “You’re an angel.” He tore open the bag and fell mercilessly onto the food.

Watching Mordred eat was like watching a trainwreck. It was violent, destructive, saddening, unholy; any number of verbs could describe the way the blond devoured his meals. It wasn’t exactly messy; that would imply some waste of food. It was like a starving dog getting a steak. Every bit was licked up. If Mordred thought the plate was edible, he’d probably eat that too. Siegfried sighed. 

“What time do you get off work today?”

The response was a confusing mumble. “Mmhmeergh,” Mordred replied around his mouthful of fried rice. 

Siegfried leveled him a flat look. “Clearly, please?”

The blond swallowed visibly. “Nine o’clock. I work til close. Be home probably around nine-thirty.”

“Thank you. I’m going to head back and eat my own food. See you later.” 

Mordred waved at Siegfried as the taller boy left, staunchly ignoring Merlin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments appreciated as always!!


	3. If a Threesome Ends in a Fight, is it a Polyarmory?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kintoki, Shuten, and Ibaraki go on a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOPS SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO UPDATE THE NEXT CHAPTER IS ALSO IN THE WORKS
> 
> warning: this chapter depicts a non-explicit service submission relationship between Shuten Douji and Kintoki. Please take care!! there is NO sexual content, although some is implied.

Kintoki's stomach grumbled as he wove in and out of traffic on the highway, trusty Bear underneath him. The wind in his hair, rattling in his ears, was an absolutely golden feeling. He had a bundle of rich purple irises in the saddlebag of his bike for Shuten, accompanied by a single yellow rose for Ibaraki. 

Turning off into the exit, he relished in the purr of his motorcycle's engine. Shuten and Ibaraki lived in a small, three-room cottage on the outskirts of town. The little building was a cute lavender color, with soft lemon shutters. Pulling into their driveway, he parked Bear and snapped on the wheel lock. Gathering the flowers, he fixed his hair using one rearview mirror.

The screen door swung open before he could even knock. Shuten's tiny girlfriend Ibaraki glared at Kintoki, who awkwardly waved. 

"Hey, what's up? I got you a flower," he said, offering the cranky girl the yellow rose. 

Kintoki choked as she unwrapped the plastic from the flower, ripped off the bulb, and popped it into her mouth, discarding the stem. Her expression never changed from a flat glare. 

“Uh… I’m glad you liked it…?” his voice was strained. Ibaraki kept glaring.

“Next time bring me a nice rock, bastard.” 

Despite Ibaraki’s harsh words, she moved aside and allowed him into the house, smacking his ass on the way in. Kintoki thanked her weakly and took his shoes off at the door. Shuten emerged from the kitchen dressed in a rich blue blazer and black jeans. 

Standing on tiptoe, she kissed the corner of Kintoki’s mouth. He could feel her smile. As she pulled back, he returned the sentiment. “Nice to see you, babe.”

Shuten fluffed Kintoki’s hair. “Where do you want to get dinner? Iba vetoed American food, so I’m thinking maybe doing Touta’s place?”

He shrugged. “Sounds good to me. Been kinda craving sushi anyway, and-- Oh! I almost forgot these!” Kintoki offered Shuten the bouquet of irises he carried. She looked inordinately pleased.

“Oh, you sweet boy! Thank you!” 

Kintoki flushed as she disappeared back into the kitchen with the flowers, presumably to put them in a vase. He took a seat next to Ibaraki, who glared at him flatly. “Watch it, Blondie.”

He shook his head. The ‘you’re blond too’ argument was well tread between the two. They settled into an easy silence for a few minutes until Shuten reemerged. “Alright, you two ready?”

Kintoki nodded as Ibaraki grumbled her assent. Shuten lead them to her bluish purple van. The backseat and trunk areas had been removed, replaced with lush carpets, soft cushions to lounge on, and coolers. A large mural of snarling demons and monsters took up the side of the van. Shuten’s license plate was also customized, reading PARTYONI. 

Ibaraki didn’t drive; she mostly got around through power walking and being extremely angry, which seemed to do wonders for her metabolism. Kintoki shrugged. If it worked, it worked, he supposed. Clambering into the back of the van, he sat cross-legged on the carpet. Ibaraki took the front passenger seat, and Shuten drove. 

The ride was peaceful. Ibaraki didn’t seem much to be in the mood to talk, and Kintoki was half asleep from the gentle rumbling of the engine and the soft swells of music coming from the radio. He was almost surprised when the car came to a stop and the engine shut off. 

Kintoki got the door for Shuten, although Ibaraki mimed stabbing him if he tried it with her. He smiled, to which Ibaraki grimaced and sighed. 

“Thank you, dear,” Shuten sighed lazily. 

Touta’s restaurant was a teeny-tiny hole in the wall place that seated ten people maximum. It was also the best Japanese food in the area by far. It wasn’t Americanized Japanese food, either; no, it was authentic and absolutely amazing. 

Kintoki squeezed into a stool by the counter. Touta himself stood in the back, frying up something that smelled heavenly. Touta’s girlfriend Sanzang sat in a corner booth, working on something on her laptop. Shuten took a seat to his left, Ibaraki to his right. 

The blue haired man smiled at the trio. “What can I getcha?”

Shuten answered first. “I want yakitori and nigiri, if you will.” 

Ibaraki pitched in. “Sashimi for me.”

Kintoki shrugged. “Chef’s choice. Surprise me.”

Touta nodded. “Gotcha.” He turned back to his cooking, bringing each of them bowls of miso soup after a few moments. 

Shuten leaned gently against Kintoki’s muscular shoulder. “Puppy,” she murmured in his ear, “We should go for a ride later.” 

The blond flushed from the tips of his ears to his chest. “H-hey, not here!”

Shuten giggled, returning to her own space. “What are you talking about, dear?” she asked innocently. Before she could continue her teasing, Touta brought each of them their food. As always, it looked absolutely amazing. 

The trio each dug in. Apparently ‘surprise me’ meant a tray of onigiri and tempura, which Kintoki was beyond happy with. He munched happily on sweet potato, daikon, eggplant, and pea pods in a deliciously crunchy batter, taking bites of shrimp onigiri between vegetables. Ibaraki eyed his food, finally speaking up after a moment. 

“Let me have a bite.”

Shuten cleared her throat. “Come, now, darling.”

Ibaraki huffed. “Can I please have a bite?”

"Better. That's my girl," Shuten smiled.

Kintoki nodded at her, offering a fried pea pod with his chopsticks. Ibaraki munched it off his chopsticks, soft cheeks puffing up. She hummed happily returning to her sashimi without thanking him, but it was fine. He hadn’t expected her to, after all. He didn’t need thanks to be happy that he’d been of help. Shuten patted Kintoki’s shoulder. 

“Good boy, sharing nicely with my girl.” 

Kintoki dipped his head down to avoid showing his pleasure at the praise. He continued eating, accepting an offered piece of yakitori from Shuten. Eventually, the three finished and Shuten paid. 

“Thank you for dinner,” he said. “Do you want me to drive home?”

Shuten nodded. “That would be nice, thank you.” 

Kintoki stood, dusting off his lap, and waved at Touta. “See ya later! See ya, Sanzang!”

Ibaraki huddled close to Shuten for the walk outside, avoiding the frigid December air. Kintoki himself was bundled in his leather jacket. He took the driver’s seat, Shuten sitting in the back. The drive home was largely quiet and uninteresting, although that wasn’t really the point. Kintoki was more concerned with what came afterwards, when they returned home.


	4. Frankenstein and the Wild Cow-Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter depicts homelessness and mild injuries somewhat explicitly. There is also child abuse referenced, and its aftermath dealt with. Please take care.
> 
> This chapter is also much longer than my other ones, hurrah! Double update for making y'all wait five months for a new chapter. I got bit by the writing bug.

Frankenstein wrapped her oversized, fluffy fur coat around herself more tightly, huddling down. Technically, the coat was stolen from Mordred, who himself had stolen it from his brother Gawain, who had permanently borrowed it from his boyfriend Lancelot. Her equally secondhand boots clunked in puddles of melting snow and sleet as she walked home after work. 

She interned with a weird older man named Tesla. He happened to be married to her film professor, which was more than a little bizarre, especially because the two bickered constantly. Mister Tesla taught her all kinds of things about circuitry and engineering, and he was surprisingly kind for such an intimidating man. 

Fran was thinking about her current project, a pole with a running electrical current that could be used to disrupt circuits and short out electrical fences, when she passed the playground. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw dark brown skin and unruly light-colored hair. Thinking nothing of it, she continued walking, but a bad feeling began to form in the bottom of her stomach. She turned on her heel and marched the half-block back to the playground. 

She flinched bodily at what she saw. 

Huddled in a ball, fingers and lips blue from the cold, was a massive man with a ridiculously fluffy tangle of greyish hair. He was clad only in tangled shreds of red cloth to protect his modesty. When Fran approached, he whimpered and pulled himself tighter into his curl. He had open wounds on his back and feet that looked dangerously close to infection. 

Fran called Mordred. He picked up after two rings, unused to Fran calling. 

“Come to playground. 7th and main. Bring… Dragon’s car. Emergency.” 

“Be there ASAP. Text me details, okay?” 

Mordred knew that Fran had difficulties with speech. She was eternally grateful for his willingness to accommodate. She texted him quickly, ‘Person hurt. Potentially homeless? Either frostbitten or close to it.’

Fran put her phone back into her coat pocket and inched a little bit closer to the man. He peeked over his arm at her, and she was momentarily struck by how young he looked. 

“Leave me alone.” 

His words were shockingly high pitched, shaky and cracked. He seemed like he hadn’t spoken in a long time, and he was definitely younger than his size would suggest. Fran shook her head.

“Just trying to help. Won’t hurt you.” 

He moaned. “Hurts…” 

Frankenstein pointed at herself. “ Fran. You?”

The gigantic child peered at her a little closer. His red eyes looked hazy. “Asterios…” Oddly enough, he sounded hesitant, like he wasn’t sure. 

She smiled at him. “Asterios. Help… coming. On the way.” 

Asterios blinked at her. “Help?”

He looked on the verge of panicking again, so Fran moved a little closer. “No hurting Asterios. Only helping.”

Fran had never cursed her speech impediment more. She raised her hands in a universal gesture of ‘no harm intended’ and prayed Mordred and Siegfried would be fast. Gently easing to her knees next to Asterios, she watched his expression. He leaned in closer to her, apparently taking in her body heat. 

Thankfully, Siegfried and Mordred pulled up before too long. The blond got out of the passenger seat carrying a huge bundle of blankets, hair tied neatly into a bun. Fran heaved a sigh of relief and began rapidly signing at her partner. “He’s hurt, and I don’t know by who. We need to get him warm soon, or else he might have severe frostbite. I think the cuts on his back are infected. His name is A-s-t-e-r-i-o-s, and he’s very young.” She spelled out the name clearly, wanting to make sure Mordred got it.

Mordred nodded. He turned to the boy. “My name is Mordred. Can I help you?” He offered Asterios the blankets. The boy uncurled a little bit. 

“I can… really use?” 

Mordred nodded. “For as long as you need. If you come with us, you can get warm and have something to eat.” 

Asterios hesitated. “Why?”

“Why? Because nobody deserves to suffer. When I was booted out,” Mordred began, “I lived on my own for three weeks in the winter time. I was so hungry I literally ate trash and I ended up with frostbite so bad I almost lost half my fingers. I don't want you to undergo what I did. I only have what I have because a man was very kind to me. I want to pass that kindness on.”

Mordred didn't like to talk about that first December after he left Morgana. He hated the cold memories, but he was willing to bring them up to make Asterios feel more comfortable. The boy, for his part, did look a little more relaxed.

“Promise… not to hurt me?”

Mordred nodded emphatically. “Of course I won’t hurt you. And my buddy Siegfried in the car, he’s a big softie too.” He offered one hand to the boy, who took the blankets in Mordred’s other arm. He stood, rising to his full, absurd height. Mordred guided him to the car, where Asterios bundled into the backseat, wrapping himself in the blankets. Fran took the other seat, and Mordred sat up front.

Fran smiled at Asterios, who weakly attempted a smile back. It came out more as a grimace or a death mask. She patted his knee gently, cataloguing the flinch it elicited. Fran tilted her head. “Sorry,” she mouthed. He shrugged.

The drive home was thankfully very short. When they trudged up to Siegfried and Mordred’s apartment, the heat was turned up and there was a warm bath drawn. 

“Asterios, would you like to take a bath? Get nice and clean and warm?” 

The giant boy shrugged. “OK.” 

Siegfried finally interjected. “Would you like me to help you wash your hair and your back? I don’t want you to aggravate your wounds by trying to stretch too far.” 

Asterios looked more hesitant, but Fran nodded encouragingly. “Siegfried… kind. Gentle.” 

He furrowed his brow, but nodded. “OK.” 

Fran and Mordred left the bathroom to grant Asterios his privacy. Siegfried turned around as Asterios shed the raggedy red cloth around his waist and hips, easing into the water that straddled the line between lukewarm and pleasantly heated.

Siegfried dropped to his knees. “I’m going to pour some water over your hair, alright? I need to get it wet to wash it. Just nod yes or no, there’s no need to speak if you don’t want to.” 

Asterios nodded yes, so Siegfried used a cup to wet Asterios’ hair. He squeezed a bit of Mordred’s passion fruit shampoo into his palm, lathering it up before beginning to work it into Asterios’ unruly mane. He massaged the boy’s scalp, working down to the roots of his hair before moving to the rest. Rinsing several times, Siegfried made sure to be gentle and avoid hurting Asterios’ eyes. Surprisingly, the boy’s hair wasn’t a grey similar to Siegfried’s after all; it was a pure, shiny white. Siegfried carefully washed Asterios’ back with his delicate soap, meant for sensitive skin, rinsing dirt and grime from the wounds there. After making sure Asterios’ hair and back were clean, he offered the boy the same soap he’d used before. “Are you okay to finish up? I can leave the room, or stay if you’re more comfortable with that.” 

Asterios, who had been silent and nearly motionless throughout the whole process, finally spoke up. “Thank you… I can… finish.” 

Siegfried nodded. “I’m going to go sit in the next room, then. Just call if you need me, okay?”

He left the room after Asterios’ assenting nod, ready to report back to Mordred and Fran. The small blond in question was getting out the first aid kit, and Fran herself was making tea. “How is he?” Mordred asked.

Siegfried shrugged. “I can’t really tell, sorry. I think he took me helping him well. He’s so young… and really skinny.”

Fran grunted angrily, beginning to sign rapidly at Mordred. Siegfried only knew basic ASL, and he couldn’t keep up with the volley the pink-haired girl was sending to her partner. Mordred was signing back, apparently having decided that it was faster than speaking back to Fran. After what felt like an hour but was probably five minutes, Siegfried returned to the bathroom, knocking gently on the door. 

“Done… sorry,” Asterios called from inside. “Come… in?” 

Siegfried opened the door. Asterios was seated on the edge of the bath, wrapped in a towel that had been laid out. The tub full of disgusting, grey-stained water was draining loudly. Asterios looked much better now that he had warmed up and been cleaned. Siegfried nodded to himself. “Much better. Are you hungry? Oh, wait; give me a second, I’ll go find you clothes.”

Siegfried quickly fetched a pair of Kintoki’s boxers and one of the man’s t-shirts. He allowed Asterios to change before ushering the boy into the kitchen. Fran had laid out a sandwich and a cup of tea. Light food, Siegfried thought approvingly. Good for a delicate stomach used to being hungry. There was a pot of broth on the stove warming as well. 

Asterios dug in with gusto as Siegfried pulled Mordred aside. “I don’t think his wounds are as bad as they looked. They were just dirty. He needs bandages, but no stitches, I don’t think.” 

Mordred nodded. “Alright. That’s comforting. Will you go put sheets on the sofa?”

Siegfried went to do just that. Mordred casually approached Asterios. “Can I take care of your cuts?” 

The boy froze mid-sip of tea, having already decimated his sandwich. Mordred raised his hands. “Easy, I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to make sure you heal up okay.”

Asterios’ head lowered. “OK. Promise to be… soft?” 

Mordred nodded solemnly. “Cross my heart and hope to die.” 

Asterios finished his tea and set the mug aside. He hiked up his shirt cautiously, causing Mordred’s heart to ache. Fran carried over the first aid kit. Mordred took the peroxide and a rag. “This will hurt. I don’t want it to, but we have to make sure there’s nothing yucky in your cuts, okay?” 

He talked the boy through each step of the process, from cleaning to bandaging. The boy flinched and seemed on the verge of tears at moments, but he held up incredibly admirably. At the end, Mordred smiled softly. “You did great, buddy. Do you want a treat?” 

“Treat…?”

Mordred nodded. “Yup. There’s some cookies right over there in that jar,” he pointed. “You can go get one for being such a good sport.” 

Asterios stood and inched over to the cookie jar. Each step he looked back over to Mordred like he was afraid of being hit. Finally, he took a single cookie from the jar. At Mordred and Fran’s matching approval, he dug in happily. 

He looked at Mordred and Frankenstein, and smiled. His big red cow-eyes softened. “Thank you.” 

Fran grinned back. “Uh-huh!”

Mordred gave a thumbs-up. “When you’re ready, you can get some sleep on the sofa.” 

After Asterios finished his cookie, he nodded. “Tired.” 

Mordred showed him to the couch, all made up with sheets and blankets. “Before you go to sleep, I have a question, if you’re okay with me asking.” 

Asterios shrugged. “Huh?”

“Who hurt you?”

The boy’s face froze over and he looked both terribly sad and angry. “Father.”

Mordred nodded. “Thank you for telling me. You can sleep now, kiddo.” 

Asterios did just that, curling up under blankets as Mordred returned to talk to Fran. “Just as we thought.”

Fran grimaced disgustedly. “Do we have his last name to report this?” she signed quickly.

“Nope… we can ask tomorrow. I won’t wake him up. I’m gonna kill his dad, though. No kid deserves to deal with that. I don’t even know how old he is. He could be ten, or he could be seventeen…” 

Fran bumped her forehead against Mordred’s before signing again. “He isn’t you. His father is not Morgana.”

Mordred rubbed his eyes harshly. “I know, I know… It’s just too similar.” 

Fran nodded. “You go get some rest too,” she motioned. “You look wiped out.”

“Come with me?” he pleaded. “I can’t sleep alone right now.”

The pink haired girl smiled. “Of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> please leave a comment and tell me what you liked or what you didnt! thanks for reading :D


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